Over the Edge
by Opal Roseblossom
Summary: Glinda reflects on her relationship with Elphaba throughout the years. "It's like when you're so high up, and you think about jumping, and how easy it would be. Just one step, one leap, and you'd be flying." Gelphie.


Over the Edge

It was like looking over the edge of a bridge.  
It's like when you're so high up, and you think about jumping, and how easy it would be. Just one step, one leap, and you'd be flying. You'd soar in the air for seconds, your stomach would fly upwards and your heart would beat so fast that you would be sure that it would break from your chest. You would feel the wind, forcing your hair above your head and streaming furiously around your face.  
And then, splat, you'd hit bottom.  
When you're looking over the edge the idea is so frightening and so horrifying that it is almost appealing.  
So simple.  
So quick.  
You'd be free, just for a moment.  
But we all know that freedom comes at a price.  
And there's something that holds you back. It isn't death, not exactly, because when you stare over that railing all you can do is wonder what it would be like. Death is a mystery that you want to solve.  
It's life. It's everything that you have in the goddamned thing.  
Because no matter how beautiful and free the jump seems, you just don't have the strength to hand over what you own while you're standing flat on the ground.

That's what she was like.  
I would watch her, curled up with a book, alone.  
Always alone.  
Long green fingers held the reader's spot as she devoured chapter after chapter.  


Dark eyes bore into me, begging me for the understanding that she knew I had.  
Her probing thoughts provoked so much in me. She pushed and pried her way into my conscious, searching for that light of intelligence.  
I wouldn't give it to her, though. I wouldn't let her know that we shared questions, and that we both questioned answers.  
That was too much like jumping.  
You see, Elphaba was born falling off of that bridge, and I never even saw it until I met her.

Lurine, I still remember her smile.  
The one that I rarely saw at first, the one that she would only ever reveal when I said something that just wasn't quite ditzy enough, or looked just a little too into a book.  
I still remember how I felt. Heart beating, hands sweating, stomach flipping, clumsy and awkward, I would always ignore it.  
It wasn't a sweet smile, nor was it beautiful.  
It was just so full.  
Full of what, I'm not sure.  
Happiness? She didn't have much.  
Kindness? She would have denied that in an instant.  
Knowledge? Understanding? I'm not sure. Elphie had always seemed lost to me. Understanding of the world, maybe, but never herself.  
Oh, how I craved to help her find herself.

And then we became friends.  
I changed my name, thoughtlessly, of course.  


I had caused a death, and I'd like to fool myself into thinking that I had grown because of it. Maybe I had, but I've always thought that she was the only one who ever affected me.  
I watched her fall in love with a man who fancied me.  
Or fancied the idea of me.  
It was the most painful experience of my life.  
Watching her pine nearly drove me insane. I wanted it to stop. Her pain was my pain, though I tried to ignore it at the time.  
I was young and lusty, of course, and wanted nothing more than to take her green hand in mine and pull her to me. But by then denial was my art.  
It's amazing what the human mind will go through to avoid something.

Then it came, the week (or I think it was that long, it's so hard to say) where we traveled together.

The week where she pulled me out of my reverie and pushed me into the maddening world of despair.  
It was the week that I shared a bed with her, my darling Elphie.  
Our bodies huddled together for warmth; we needed each other to stay alive. Bodies entangled, thoughts shocked still, we painstakingly ignored the sound of the other's beating pulse that echoed in our ears.  
I can't remember too much, and I'm not sure whether or not I took a single breath that entire trip.  
Breathing made me feel alive. Feeling alive made me feel her.

And then she was gone.  
All that was left was a fuzzy green spot in my mind; a wound that's infection never got treated.  
I hid.  
My mind retreated into itself and a peppy little robot took its place.  


I left when Elphie did. And I refused to come out.

Until she returned years later.  
She ran through my life, passing me in seconds.  
I could only stand there, staring, dumbfounded. My heart still racing, my breath still caught in my throat, I tried to think of something to say.  
I needed something to scream, cry, and shout.  
Her name, always her name.  
_Elphie._

It wasn't enough. It was never enough. _  
_  
Then she died.  
And I was left, alone.  
Always alone.  
Still looking over the edge of that bridge.

**AN: Press the review button. You know you want to. :D I'll give you e-cookines. **

**Concrit is greatly appreciated. **


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